Our Quest for Fireworks...

We had an odd 4th of July, not that it was a bad 4th of July, just a different 4th of July...

We planned to go to the beach, Anze the Dog wanted to build his sand condo complexes. Cakes and I needed some sun. We wanted some seafood from Neptune's Net. Then we were going to cook a couple of steaks on the grill. We were going to have a cocktail or two and a nice bottle of wine with dinner. We were going to have some apple pie.

We did none of the above.

Instead, I wrote "Aftermath" cooked a hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs, Cakes did some 4th of July posts for her clients and some planning for the balance of the week. The three of us took a nice long nap.

Awake in the late afternoon, we looked at each other. We decided that we were too damn lazy to do much of anything. I didn't feel like grilling either. An hour passed pleasantly on the porch, now it was 5. We had a cocktail. Cakes had a screwdriver, I had a Jack on the rocks. I looked at her, she looked at me

We ordered take out from Red's Barbecue. Free delivery on orders over $25,00. Combo dinner with three sides, $28,95 with tax and delivery, I added a 7 buck tip for the kid who drove it to us. he was a nice kid, too. His parents have a ton of money invested in his braces. He complimented us on the house and the flowers, should have tipped him more.

In the huge bag from Red's there were baby back ribs, a chunk of smoked tri tip and a chicken breast, mashed potatoes, baked beans and cole slaw. A lot of food for two. There are left overs in the fridge.

We finished dinner and decided to drive the twisting, turning road to the top of the mountain (big hill) to watch the fireworks from Canoga Park, Agoura, Thousnad Oaks, Simi, and Moorpark, the summit is over 2 thousand feet and once you get there the view is hellacious. The big hill is in the Santa Monica Mountains Preserve, so there are a few rangers around.

Our ranger was a nice, thin, middle aged guy, who politely suggested we were nuts to think we would enjoy 4th of July fireworks from up there, explaing, "All you'll see is some flashes in the sky, no sound none of the punch you get when you're close, know what I mean?"

Anze the Dog did his business and we left.

Back down the twisty road with steep drop offs. "Don't get so close to the side, it scares me." Cakes said. She wasn't polite about it either.

She suggested we just go home and watch fireworks on PBS. I said "No! I want to see some fireworks, it's the 4th of July!" I was as polite as she had been.

We get on Los Angeles Avenue, a pretty busy street, but tonight it's like the 405 at 5 on a Friday afternoon, we're a mile from the Community Center complex, the traffic is bumper to bumper and cars are parked on both sides of the 6 lane divided street. The sidewalks are filled with people hauling coolers, lawn chairs, kids in strollers, kids with balloons, we're crawling along at 5 miles an hour. My idea is to park across the street from the Community Center in the train station parking lot, we're about two blocks from the turn off to the lot. There are cops every where, lights flashing, they can't get the traffic moving so they are standing around by their cruisers, shooting the shit under the flashing lights. Nice.

I'm stuck in the right hand lane so I hang a right into a grocery store parking lot ignoring the huge sign saying "No Event Parking" we creep, bumper to bumper in the lot for 10 minutes hoping against hope we can find a spot to park and walk to the community center. I finally find a spot behind the Smart and Final grocery store. I park across from the loading dock, there are a couple of mugs with their truck blocking the driveway right behind where I park, they have dayglo vests on, they must be official because nobody wears a dayglo vest just for the hell of it. I ask them if it's okay to park there, the fat guy shrugs and says, "I don't give a shit." We stay put and parked. We can hear music from the event, the girl singer talks too much between songs, but other than that...the band isn't too bad. More cars and people show up. People are putting blankets down on the asphalt for chrissakes! Kids are running around, there's drinking going on in violation of the law, nobody is worried because the cops are standing around in bullet proof vests telling each other cop jokes.

I hook up Anze the Dog to his leash and walk him around, he makes friends with a dozen people, licks a few faces and falls in love with a little Asian girl.

Back in the Jeep, we roll back the sun roof. Cakes take off her sandals, stands up on the seat, gets her camera ready as the countdown to the show starts, 9-8-7-6. There's a hedge and a wall next to the car. 5-4-3-2-1. We hear a whump on the other side of the wall and then the sky lights up.

Whump, whump...

Whump, whump, whump...

The fireworks are exploding right over our heads...what the hell!

The guys shooting off the display are right on the other side of the wall! After all the bullshit we've gone through to see fireworks this year, we end up right  next to them, wow. We are not only stunned, but amazed! Not only do we get the full treatment up close, the back wall of the grocery store bounces the sound right back at us and it it's loud enough to give you a punch in the guts and a kick in the ass! And it doesn't bother Anze the Dog a bit!

BLAM!

It took us forever to get out from behind the store and out of the parking lot. Everybody was courteous except the asshole in the old Bronco that obviously can't pass the emissions inspection, the exhaust stink was so bad, I had to roll up the windows, close the sunroof and turn the AC on recirculate so we could breath. We made in home with smiles on our faces, in bed and asleep by 11:30. A good 4th of July after all.

July 4th Roundup-Aftermath

Mom looks like Katherine Hepburn, her best friend Betty looks like Donna Reed and her other best friend Margaret looks like Loretta Young. Movie stars, the three of them. Right now they are doing dishes, it's late at the lake. The men? They're sitting out in the yard, lying to each other, that's what the old man calls it anyway.

Ginny's mom, Betty is divorced, Ginny hates, with the power of a thousand burning suns, her mom's boyfriend Mike. I don't like him either. I get the feeling nobody likes him, except Betty. I've heard bachelor Bert mutter, "Jesus what an asshole" more than once.

We only have two bedrooms at the lake, 5th wheel Bert and the two couples are staying in Mentor at a drive up to the door motel. At the last minute, Ginny finds out she is staying with us. She storms out of the cabin yelling "I hate you, you are disgusting!" Ginny knows what's up.

Mom and dad are standing out in the driveway saying goodbye, they are loud and laughing. I join Ginny on the front porch steps, I start to say something and she says 'Just shut up." We sit and slap mosquitoes.

The old man comes out on the porch, he's got a shopping bag, Roman candles are sticking out of it. I perk up, he says, "Come on you two, let's have some fun. We head down the steps to the dock.

These aren't regular roman candles, they are mortars, military grade fireworks. The old man says,"Ralphie's dad ordered them special for us, not supposed to have them." Ginny is momentarily un-pissed, I'm so excited I feel like I have to.

"Ka-god damned-boom" a red ball of fire arcs out over the lake, it must be 200  hundred feet in the air, then another and another, red, green, yellow balls of fire. The old man hands me one of the candles. You could hold off a Panzer attack with one of these babies...the old man lights it with a Zippo. My arm recoils, Holy shit, a burning red glob of fire shoots across the lake. Ginny is jumping up and down. My eyes are as big as saucers, the old man is  laughing, "point up a little more, Jesus not that high, it'll come down on your head...blam, blam, blam. This great!

The old man lights the last two for us, Ginny has one and so do I. Boom, blam, ka-boom. This is so good, I think we both have our first orgasms!

Back up the steps from the dock to the cabin, we're laughing, mom isn't, she's on her hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor, she looks at the old man and says, "I'm glad you're having fun." The old man announces he's, 'going to bed". Ginny and I help mom clean up. Done, Mom smokes a cigarette out on the porch, she's tired and pissed. Ginny, pissed again, sits next to her on the porch swing, mom puts her arm around Ginny's shoulder, Ginny is sobbing, mom is patting her hair. No place for me, I stay away, lips zipped. Like Ginny, I know what's up.

Mom goes to bed, Ginny crawls in with my sister, my little brother is on the cot in the "kid's room". I'm on the sofa in the living room, wide awake under a Hudson Bay blanket, a red one with black stripes.

4th of July Round Up

First actual cook out at the new lake cabin, the old man lights the grill using boat gas...mmm good.

Same time, same place. The bottom paint on Gramp's fishing boat is peeling after 4 weeks in the water, fact is he used barn paint, pointed out by smart ass grandson who noticed it while swimming underwater near the dock and handed him a chunk of paint...

M40 goes off a foot or 2 from my hand, hand is numb, the old man's words cut through the ringing in my ears, "Be careful with those, you could blow your hand off"...

My grand parents on both sides are from the generation who dress up for cook outs and picnics, one grand father has a tie on and it's 90 degrees...they both wear hats too

A few years later...

Mom and dad have a bunch of friends at the lake for the 4th. I'm 12, Mom's best friend's daughter Ginny is 13, we ask, politely, a very drunk Bert if we can take his T-Bird for a ride, Bert says sure, we ask 5 more times...

Mom and a couple of her friends want to go for an evening boat ride, I don't check the fuel (I'm 12 for chrissakes) we run out of gas in the Flyer 3/4 of a mile from the cabin. Can't row a runabout. I go over the side grab the bowline and side stroke the boat back to the cabin while mom and her pals smoke and enjoy the evening breeze...when we get back smart ass Ginny says she's REALLY glad she did go along...Ginny's mom Betty says, "you're quite the swimmer"...

Setting off fireworks later in the evening, my little brother is running around with a sparkler, trips and burns his hand, starts wailing, shuts up when he gets a Popsicle shoved in his mouth...my young sister changes her clothes for the 10th time that day (encouraged by Ginny) gets her ass chewed by mom after she sees all the clothes on the floor of the "kid's room"...my sister weeps for a minute, promises to be good, changes her clothes again and comes out for the fireworks wearing lip stick and rouge applied by Ginny...mom gives up...

The old man likes fireworks as much as I do, I notice  he seems a little unsteady as he bends over to light them off, probably something to do with all all the Canadian Club he's been drinking since noon...our adult supervision doesn't notice that Ginny and I steal a couple of cold beers out of the cooler...we drink them under the birch trees along the driveway...

We have the old original outhouse out back in service and it's being put to good use by the men, Bert is sitting in there and my dad's best friend Bobby lights an entire pack of Black Cats, opens the door and tosses them in the privy and holds the door closed, Bert comes out more dazed than when he went in....Bert called Bobby multiple bad names, as a ex navy man he knew a lot of them....Ginny and I decide it's not a good time to ask him if we can take the T-Bird for a ride again.

Happy 4th...

The Fourth of July

I was a kid in the 50's, so indulge me as I comb through the past with memories of ancient 4th of July celebrations.

My index finger and the middle finger on my right hand to this day remember having a cherry bomb explode in .0003 hundredths of a second after I attempted to throw it at a kid riding down Lincoln Drive on a Schwinn bike. The pain went all the way up my arm and exploded in my head, my ears rung for a week. 5 minutes later I was lighting them again. On our nation's Birthday!

John Gault (as he used to say later in life "with a U god dammit!") and I mounted copper tubing on the handle bars of our bikes (I rode a Raleigh, just like the bikes they ride in old English movies) a tube on each side of the handlebars. We'd slide in a bottle rocket, a punk clenched in our teeth. We'd ride up behind some unsuspecting kids, light the rockets and scare the living crap out of them. I hit Jolly Lindquist square in the ass one glorius night. Leslie Letourneau, the creep who lived with with his parents and worked at the sewage treatment plant. Yelled at us, "Hey you little assholes, cut that out!" Leslie was the first adult I ever gave the finger to and I did on our Nation's Birthday!

A friend of my Dad had a Chris Craft speedboat, one of those big old mahogany monsters with a Grey Marine flat head 6 for an engine. He wore a white captain's hat and called his wife "It". That CC was the first boat I water skied behind. I recall him turning hard to port and yelling, "Here you go you little bastard!" laughing like a madman as I fell and skipped across the water at 40 mph with my bathing suit around my ankles. Fourth of July, bitches!

In the good old days, charcoal briquets were close to impossible to light (still are, kind of) probably because they were chunks of anthracite coal. Frustrated, my old man poured about 5 gallons of boat gas on them and got them going. I can still taste those oily hamburgers and hot dogs. My little sister Margo, the apple of every one's eye, had the nerve to complain. The old man, responded, "Shut up and eat!" 4th of July memories!

There were plenty of people around when I was a kid who were born in the 19th Century. I always knew who they were because they were old and they got dressed up to go to a 4th of July picnic. My parents wore shorts, short sleeved shirts and drank in front of their kids. The old ladies wore dresses and the old men wore suits in the 90 degree, humid July weather on the prairie. Every so often the old bucks would wander out to where their cars were parked, three or four of them would gather around the trunk of an old Dodge, Ford, Chevy or Plymouth and yuk it up. The word was "don't bother the men." When they left to go home the parking lot was littered with bottles. My old man would would say to his bachelor Uncle Alvin, "Al, for god sakes sit down and have a drink, if don't like what we have bring the bottle from under the seat of your car!" Old Al, drunk as a lord would just grin at dad. He'd never think of drinking in front of ladies or kids or his sisters or anyone. Except maybe the shapely widow who owned the Arvila bar. Word was Al was "tappin" her, not only on the 4th, but on most days of the year!

My Dad's pal Bert drove a 56 T-Bird. I remember the 4th of July when I was 12. Bert was drunk on his ass and I asked him if I could drive his car down the lake road and back. Bert said "sure." Virginia and I drove around for a half hour. We got back, ate a hot dog and I asked Bert if I could drive his car down the road, once again, Bert said "go ahead." Off Ginny and I went. The third time we drove all the way to Erskine and back. On the 4th of July!
Happy 4th.